


Frozen

by CybertronianBeing



Series: The Never-Ending Adventures of BBop & Streamline [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, Desert, F/F, Frostbite, Sharing Body Heat, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29454519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CybertronianBeing/pseuds/CybertronianBeing
Summary: Sandstorm to snowstorm, sharing heat with only their bond to suffice.VALENTINES DAY SPECIAL!!!🥰Streambop at it again.
Relationships: Original Cybertronian Character(s)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Never-Ending Adventures of BBop & Streamline [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163519





	Frozen

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Transformers: Prime’s Season 1, Episode 7 - Scrapheap. 
> 
> Streamline & BBop are BACK for more.
> 
> Streamline and BBop belong to Baydn and i, ask for permission to use please!

*****

Arid heat. Drippy lubricant-sweat. Glistening frames. Deep breaths. Beating sun. 

BBop took a knee after barely striding off of the drop ship and analyzed the sand below her pedes. She crumbled it between her digit tips and smelled it. To no one’s surprise, it smelled like nothing except earthy air. 

It was porous. Her visor didn’t recognize the soot-like powdery white sand that rolled on as far as the optic could see. It stirred into a little cloud as the ship hovered off the ground and took off towards the dark sky. 

This planet’s sky wasn’t blue, but this wasn’t a surprise either. Cybertron’s sky was often either lit or it wasn’t. If the suns were not out, it was pitch black, but if they were, it was merely the non-absence of light. It was either light or dark, night or day, ambiguous or perfectly clear. 

Wheezy coughs and a frustration with the disappearance of the sharp shade the ship offered only moments ago earned some colorful language and a gesture or two. 

“Fragging hate planets like this.”

“Awe, BBop. Don’t be so prickly. Back on Earth today is the day of love, you know.” 

“Well, here it’s the day of 104 degrees Fahrenheit recon missions for BBop and Streamline so—”

“Geez, relax. I hate it here, too, but we only have to be here for an Earth-hour anyway. The drop ship’s barely leaving to orbit the atmosphere and act as overwatch.”

“Yeah yeah. I know,” BBop sighed, leaning on her tall weapon, the hilt sinking into the dusty sand only slightly before pausing, almost hitting an underneath side to the ground and resting. 

The wrecker accepted a kiss on the cheek to stave off the frustration. Quick and light dermas connected with the warm facial-plates and a smile crawled onto BBop’s face. Following after, a flood of grace for the planet flowed into the bond like an oasis, “Your sweat tastes like your scent does.”

“You didn’t know that? You taste the same as how your scent is.”

Apparently not. The seeker shrugged and began treading in a random direction, deeming walking away from the sun the most appealing option. 

The point was to analyze the climate, search for energon, and report any possible Decepticon activity: generally the fruits to reap of a presumed non-violent recon mission. The ping didn't hit any energon—not even traces. However, an interesting radioactivity laced the atmosphere and sat deep in the rolling hills of sandy dunes. 

Nothing they hadn’t seen before. 

Boring setting trespassed flowing walls of nothing, nothing, and more nothing. Flashing sequences of absolutely nothing special came in waves as mirages settled far ahead, promising what the sequential sunlit dunes couldn’t deliver. 

Cybertron’s many moons happened to be more interesting than the dumb rolling hills. 

“Get ya’ face out of that energon detector and check out the horizon,” And Streamline did look up, detecting the urgency in BBop’s vocalizer and the push of the bond. 

“What—” She squinted through her visor up ahead, and something like an atmospheric sandstorm shot towards them, across the sky and covered the one tinted-green sun in the world completely with the deadly shade they’d both been longing for since about...forty-five kliks ago. A chill and a quick wind swept down and then up in a U-shape, shooting towards the sky to swell with the sticky, dusty sand that completely shut out the sun. 

The initial blast of wind knocked into them with a gale-force crush. Streamline’s wings caught the hit like a parachute and, without being braced, suddenly found her weight relying on BBop’s unwavering grasp. Clearly she’d been ready for that. 

“It’s time to get the pit out of here.”

“Agreed,” Streamline nodded and peeled herself away from BBop against the wind’s wishes, pinging the comm-link to the ship. “This is Stream and BBop requesting pickup. The weather’s getting chippy. Be advised: dangerous gusty winds on approach and limited atmospheric visibility.”

“I’m gonna guess by the look on your face you aren’t getting contact at all,” BBop yelled over the winds, keeping her hold on Streamline’s shoulder plates never-failing, holding her steady. 

Shaking helm. With the guiding servos, BBop lead them both towards where she thought there had been mesas and a possible cave for shelter. The temperatures dropped rapidly and the sand blew up into their optics from underneath and up top of their visors, the lenses doing not near enough to rectify full protection. 

Limited visibility and no ability to contact the drop ship, who knew if their location was pinpointable or not. Lost, but with each other. 

Deep trouble.

Dark, thick stratus clouds climbed underneath the wild atmospheric blackout-sandstorm to split the ground floor of blowing sand from the full-on sun blocking storm far above. 

Deeper trouble. 

Casting another long glance to the sky, BBop anchored her pedes to the ground with a new assuredness and ducked her face in frustration when she realized, suddenly, something wasn’t right. She’d seen those before. They hadn’t formed so fragging fast back on Earth, but those clouds with the shape and texture produced blizzard-like conditions or even whiteouts. 

Snow? It's a desert.

Also called a squall, or a sudden whiteout without warning, back on Earth. One of the broadcasted warnings even popped up on BBop’s dashboard because she happened to register the same cell frequency when they were back on Earth. Before they were even educated on the fact, they’d both cowered in fear of the snowflakey substance, fearing it to be acidic just as it is on their home planet. The orange-haired jumpy-volleyball player assured them that it was pretty safe except for when you slip. 

Ice skating with them proved to compare the blueberry-haired boyfriend and BBop to be rather similar while the orange, excited one matched Streamline’s ice skating abilities. Streamline spent most of the time catching BBop and orange made his money catching his extremely clumsy setter. 

The snow came hard but not in a huge wall, it just started and refused to stop. Their core temperatures dropped quickly, plummeting before they could see their hands in front of their faceplates. The wind whipped at their very armor and wrinkled their protoforms. Shivers wracked Streamline’s form and shook her to her core, her pedes giving out to drop them both to the frozen, frothy snow as she coughed bitterly, generating just a bit of thermal energy as their shared existence and closeness brought some semblance of peace in the swirling storm. 

BBop buried her face into Streamline’s neck and heaved a breath and gathered her close, shivering her own drift-deep shake. Tears froze to their faceplates and they pulled as near as they could to each other. Streamline’s wingtips sealed over with frostbite and BBop’s horns followed quickly afterwards. Snow gathered around them as abandonment of all hope seeped and was replaced by the pain of the tundra. 

A day of love? 

A day of salvation, perhaps. 

In their predicament, they prepared themselves. Interlacing digits and holding tight, they curled up and hunkered down. 

Like Primus' forsaken servo reaching from the heavens, lights beamed from not far, luminescence strong enough to snap through the blizzard and cut it strong and bright. They huddled together, clinging to life with their bond as all to go by. They burned bright. Twin flames slowly being crushed by a globe of frozen sleet. 

Servos like their own like burns running over their frostbitten existences reached, and all they did was hold even more tight to each other.

**Author's Note:**

> For Baydn, the love of my life. I love you so so much baby. 
> 
> Happy day of love from us Earthlings.


End file.
